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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732572">The missing and the damned</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/myotishia/pseuds/myotishia'>myotishia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Psyonic [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Multi, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:35:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/myotishia/pseuds/myotishia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Torchwood deals with things even they can't just brush off.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper/Toshiko Sato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Psyonic [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Skinned</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even Owen was having trouble handling what he was seeing on his table. In a way it was worse than the days he just had a few limbs left scattered on the table to work with. The man in front of him looked like a diagram in a textbook as every bit of skin had been painstakingly removed to reveal the musculature underneath. If that wasn’t bad enough there were signs that the body had been bound by its wrists and ankles after the skin around his extremities had been removed and by the mess that had been left Owen guessed the man had not been unconscious. He was sure the cause of death would be exsanguination but he’d go through the whole autopsy just in case. Part of him hoped the poor bastard had died of a heart attack or choking on his own tongue. Anything that wasn’t the slow and agonising death he suspected. He wondered why the body had been sent to him though. After all, this could have been done by a human hand. Jack hadn’t said much about it yet. That usually happened with heavier cases. He didn’t want Owen getting distracted by the story and miss something important. Not that he doubted his medics skills but in Torchwood heavy cases were a damn sight heavier than most people could cope with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if to push away what they’d be dealing with when Owen was done, Tosh and Gwen were flicking through wedding magazines. Gwen had decided that she would wear white but she still hadn’t pinned down a style.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about this one?” Tosh held out the magazine, showing a medieval style gown with long gossamer sleeves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, I like the neckline. Maybe a bit more volume in the skirt though, that looks like it would hug my bum a bit much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would that be a problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave a non committal sound in reply. “I just don’t think I’d look that good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d look good in a potato sack, you could pull off any dress you like.” Melody said, placing down a folder. “Not to interrupt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, but I think I’ll add a few layers anyway. What are you up to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now? I’m trying to find out what’s going on. Jack’s been really quiet other than forbidding me from going anywhere near the medical bay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yea… Owen’s got a new body and it’s… A mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It must be… Weevils?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Definitely not weevils. At first the police thought they were dealing with some maniac killer, or some kind of ritual murder. Then they got the witness testimony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked between Tosh and Gwen. “Aaand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever killed him walked down the outer wall from the second floor window, leaving a blood trail the whole way down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Having a secret wedding planning meeting?” Jack asked as he walked past and towards the medical bay. He looked like he was trying to keep up his usual energy but something was off. He was keeping something to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh smiled. “We were. Do you need us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, carry on. Don’t let me stop you… Melody, do you feel anything off right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other than you acting weird?” Mel offered, an edge of nervousness in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you’re hiding something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh boy, I’m out of practice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought to himself. “Just… Humour me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok. Well… Um…” She hadn’t noticed it before but an underlying sense of fear was radiating from the medical bay. It wasn’t Owen as she would have recognised his thought patterns. Anyway, this wasn’t an active thought, it was residual but it was strong. “The body Owen’s working on. It’s radiating telepathic residue, and a lot of it. The dead shouldn’t do that, even with a violent death. Once brain activity stops any telepathic residue should be left at the scene.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought so. Just needed confirmation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you forbid me from the medical bay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s exactly why. I felt it as soon as the body was brought in but I wasn’t completely sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen glanced towards the archway. “If it’s that strong then why aren’t we feeling it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The walls of the hub have been soaked in telepathic residue for years so they’re saturated. They block it to a point so you shouldn’t feel it unless you’re sensitive to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it safe for Owen to be working in it then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s strong but you’re actually less susceptible to its effects if you’re not as attuned to telepathic radiation. Kind of like how you can walk through a large crowd unaffected by their thoughts, but I can’t.” Melody explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Ok, but what does this residue on the body mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked at the archway. “Remember the three paintings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No… But they were hundreds of years old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everything has such a short lifespan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Mel breathed. “Are you saying what made those things is back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That or there’s another being with that kind of telepathic ability and a deep hatred for humans that takes peoples skin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The colour completely drained from her face. “If it’s making another one of those paintings it’s going to take more than one person to create the effect the others had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s why we need to stop it sooner rather than later. The rain washed away the blood trail s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should be able to track it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He said firmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’ll have left a telepathic trail. We could follow it and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said no. I’m not letting you anywhere near that thing for tracking purposes or otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts! Whatever this is is out of even your league. The rest of us not having your abilities will keep us at less of a risk. You’re going to be a beacon for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen reached out and placed a hand on Melodys arm. “He’s right. I want to stop whatever this is as soon as possible too but throwing yourself at it isn’t going to help. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” Mel hung her head, knowing they were right. “Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of shoes on concrete pulled the groups attention, Ianto sprinting towards the garage with his coat half on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto?” Jack called, a knot forming in his stomach seeing his partner in such a panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto stopped and looked over. “Rhiannon called. Mica’s gone missing.. I … I need to help find her.” He gasped, out of breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melody, go with him. That’s something you can definitely help with.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right away.” She nodded, not even stopping to grab her coat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhiannon was sat on her sofa with a police officer, shaking as she tried to give them anything that might help them find her little girl. Ianto knocked on the front door out of politeness but let himself in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto. I didn’t know what to do-” She sniffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never seen her so terrified before. “We’ll find her. Just tell me what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David’s got a stomach bug and a fever so he stayed home from school. Johnny dropped Mica off just outside the school before he went to work but they called me and said she didn’t get to class. I … I don’t know what to do. Johnny’s out looking and the police are looking. I… Oh god she could have been kidnapped or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, it’s going to be ok. Maybe she decided to skip class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not like that. She’d go in just to see her friends. Please find her.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and the officer next to her handed her another tissue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re Micas uncle?” The officer asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Yes. I’m Ianto Jones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re doing our best to find Mica but if there’s anything you could give us to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a friend that’s helped on missing childrens cases before. She’s just outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she with a different department?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly. Melody.” He called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mel entered, seeing the officer give them a very sceptical look. “My name is Melody Archer. I’ve helped find missing people in conjunction with west mercia police. Feel free to check my credentials. Right now I just need something Mica has a strong emotional connection to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhiannon stood and rushed upstairs, returning with a stuffed rabbit that looked like it had seen better days. “I don’t care how you do it, just please bring my baby home safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll find her.” She carefully took the rabbit and got a flash of a grassy area. It was a connection and that was all she needed. “Ianto, follow me.” She rushed out of the door, still clutching the toy rabbit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto followed swiftly, just wanting to find his niece safe and sound. “Is she ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I know she’s alive which is a start.” She walked towards the school, with no idea of the area. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t following a road map, she was following a direct link. Past the school and any place Mica had any business going they trudged across a grassy area, the empty frames of goal posts sitting at either end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She couldn’t have got this far on her own, could she? Is someone with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to concentrate. Sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bit back all the questions he had for after the little girl was found as they kept going into a patch of trees. Finally he saw a small figure in a bright pink coat, her backpack still on, sitting on the cold earth surrounded by a circle of mushrooms. “Mica?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little girl looked up. “Uncle Ianto?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed forward and gathered her up into his arms. “What are you doing out here? You’re mum’s in bits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hurt?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now Mica, I need you to be completely honest with me, ok? I promise I won’t tell your parents or anyone else.” He began, his eyes darting to the circle of mushrooms. “Have you been talking to fairies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl looked confused. “Fairies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like little friends. Pixies. Things like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok. Ok, good. Right, let’s get you home.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tucking it between his ear and shoulder. “Rhi’ , I found her. She looks fine, just a bit confused. I’m bringing her home now.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most of the way back Ianto was almost barrelled over by Johnny as he rushed over, relieved to see his little girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god.” He said, pulling Mica into a tight hug. “Never run off like that again. What did you think you were doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The child began crying, the whole situation becoming a bit much as she didn’t remember ever seeing him scared before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Both of you. I don’t know how you did it but thank you.” He said, holding back tears as he looked to Ianto and Melody. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melody held out the toy rabbit and Mica took it, burying her face in her dads shoulder. Ianto gave a nod of acknowledgement, ever the silent type. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sorry to call you out of work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be. It’s been a rough start to the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can come in if you want-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… Well, see you soon then, yea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny gave one last thank you and disappeared inside the house. Ianto finally relaxed, as if he was just catching his breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto?” Melody said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t fairies but it wasn’t human either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go back and have a look at where we found her. We can call it in on the way… And thank you. She could have been out there all day if you hadn’t tracked her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. This was how I spent a lot of time back when I was living with my parents. To be honest I was really scared I wouldn’t be able to get a connection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if you can’t get a connection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That only happens for two reasons. One, they’re too far away which usually means they were taken in a vehicle, or two, there isn’t an active mind to connect to.” She frowned and looked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart leapt into his throat at the possibility. “Have you been on searches like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few. One, the little boy was found, two towns over, with his mum who’d lost custody of him… The others… One was never found and the other…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s best not to dwell on it… Anyway, we really should check that wooded area. If I can’t help with the other case I can at least try and help with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” A voice called from behind them. It was a second police officer. “You found the little girl, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I shouldn’t tell you this but I checked with West Mercia and I know I can trust you. She wasn’t the first child to go missing. We’ve had cases all around the area and they aren’t being treated as connected but… I can’t ignore the chance they are. So, here.” He handed her a couple of pieces of note paper with details from the other cases. “I can’t officially ask you to look into them but if you did by chance I wouldn’t stop you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see what I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He nodded before rushing back.    </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Follow the trail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Owen sunk into his chair, closing his eyes for a moment to settle his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what have you got?” Jack asked. His voice didn’t have the same force it usually did so he must have known, at least in part, how the medic was feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he bled out like I thought and it took a hell of a long time. Whatever skinned him carefully cut his vocal chords to start out through a small incision in the centre of his neck. He fought back against his attacker but he didn’t stand a chance. After that he was skinned alive and covered in a thin layer of salt. The attacker used a short, curved, blade and worked with surgical levels of care. Needless to say, no human has that kind of skill... What kind of Seven level of bullshit did I just see Jack?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The painter’s come back. Maybe it heard about its work being destroyed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Painter? You mean those three pictures from the auction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so. Damn thing can walk up and down walls and Tosh says whatever field it throws off disables cameras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh nodded. “I can get sound but all footage comes out as interference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t exactly worry about being seen so we might have to do this the old fashioned way. Where’s Gwen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she went to call Ianto and check on him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yea, she’s safe. This is a case for us though…. I’m sure…. Other kids have been going missing… Yea, just transfer the case over to us.... No, I don’t think Andy would have recognised it as one for us. You can clue him in. He has Melodys number so if he’s got anything important while we’re out here just tell him to call her… Yea… Thanks Gwen… Bye.” Ianto slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked over at the PDA Mel was using. It was connected to the Torchwood mainframe and was collecting information on the missing children. They’d driven closer to the small wooded area as it looked like it was going to rain and didn’t fancy getting soaked to the bone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything ok at the hub?” She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea. Gwen just wanted to know if everything was ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything new with the other case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that she said… So, found anything useful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. They’re all different ages, different economic backgrounds, different genders, the only thing they do have in common is being under sixteen. Let’s check out where Mica was sitting when we found her. Maybe there’s something left there that can help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like our best option. Thanks again for helping. Even if this wasn’t Torchwood business you still dropped everything to help me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re friends. Of course I’m going to help.” She smiled warmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped out into the cool air, the sky full of electricity. “When did you start helping the police find people then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I was ten. One of the kids in the neighbourhood went missing and her parents had heard I was really good at knowing things I shouldn’t. The girl had this huge argument with them the night before and she’d run away from home. She’d got as far as the local park and they found her crying under the climbing frame. After that I got a bit of a reputation and the police just got used to worried parents bringing me along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that a lot for a ten year old?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, but I wanted to. Mum always went with me. She didn’t like me putting myself in danger, but she knew how much I wanted to help people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened when you couldn’t find them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cried mostly. I felt like I’d failed. And then there was the one at school…” She stared into the distance, a frown on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A boy from my year… He’d skipped class and because it was PE I was just walking around the field with a teaching assistant. She joked that maybe I could find him so I tried… He wasn’t far away. I told her to call an ambulance and run ahead to check the back fence. It was out of sight from the school building so some kids used to climb over it to get out. There was a tree next to the fence which made it easy to climb up. He… He’d climbed the tree and slipped… Impaled himself on the spikes at the top of the fence… I was in his mind as he passed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry.” He breathed. “How old were you then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fourteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave it up for a bit, but you know me. A little trauma won’t stop me forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mist fourteen year olds are hanging out with their friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did that too. It’s just I did other things the rest of the time.” She shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped through the trees and back to the still unbroken circle of mushrooms. The indents from Micas shoes were still clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto looked around, a nervousness crawling up his spine. “You said you saw what led her here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea. It was a bit blurry but…” She rubbed her temples, a sharp pain running through her head. “It looked like you’d expect a monster under the bed to look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ok?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a headache. Probably just the storm rolling in. It was… It was.... Damn it the memory’s too fuzzy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright. Don’t push yourself too hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” She sighed and studied the floor. “I know she was dropped off at school and then her memory got fuzzy. And the next clear thought was being here, and I think she only had that because me jumping into her mind disrupted whatever was controlling her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just see if it left anything behind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was sitting up there.” She pointed to the mid branches of one of the trees. On closer inspection there looked to be a small piece of fabric caught on the rough branch. Ianto grabbed it and placed it into a small evidence bag. He always carried a couple of them out of habit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something’s better than nothing.” Thunder rolled overhead. “And it sounds like we should get back to the car. Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to keel over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Sorry if I’ve been a bit overbearing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen knocked on the door of the first witness’ flat and waited, hearing footsteps just beyond. The lock clicked as it was disengaged and a skinny young man answered the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello. Sorry to bother you. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about what you witnessed the other night.” She said, slipping back into her old role like a comfortable pair of boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded and opened the door to let her in. The flat was modest to say the least but it did have a good view of the crime scene. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’ve given an official statement, but I’m from a specialist unit and I wanted to see if we could expand on what you’ve told us.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… Yea, ok.” He gestured to the sofa for her to take a seat and sunk into an old and beaten recliner. “I’ll help if I can.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She perched on the edge of the sofa, slightly worried it might swallow her. “Thank you Mr Stevens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted… You can just call me Ted. Mr Stevens is my dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem, Ted. Can you describe what you saw leaving the scene in as much detail as you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let her words sink in. “So you believe what I said about it being a monster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what it was but I’m going to find out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he sat forward and perked up, “it was tall. Like seven foot going by how big it was next to the window, and it had legs like a bird. They were spindly and stuck out behind it as it walked down the wall. I didn’t see its face but it was shaped kind of like a person, other than the legs. It was hard to tell with that huge bag strapped to its back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see which way it went?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… Yea, it went round the side of the building that way.” He pointed away from the initial crime scene. “It was really fast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That helps a lot, thank you. Is there anything else you think could be useful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, that’s all I know. I only looked out of the window because I heard some woman scream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was probably the victims ex girlfriend who’d gone to check on him after she hadn’t heard anything at all from him for days. “No, no. That’s fine. Thank you for what you’ve been able to give me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack frowned at the mess that was still left at the scene. He wanted to make sure nothing had been missed but it wasn’t easy. Blood had soaked into the carpet and was attracting flies. The bed, where the victim was found, was without a mattress so the bare slats were stained a reddish brown. There were indents in the wooden frame where rope had been tied to restrain the man, and one of the corners was cracked from how hard he’d pulled to try and escape. There was no official murder weapon left, though a spent adrenaline syringe had been found, likely used to prolong the mans suffering. The police would send that over once they worked out where it had come from. He wished they’d have handed it over already but it was in transit when the case was officially transferred to Torchwood. An empty canister of salt was discarded in the corner of the room, blood smeared across the outside. None of it helped find the painter. He’d forgotten how frustrating the old fashioned way could be. No cameras or digital trace to follow, just an alien and a trail of blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all he knew some other poor sod could be going through the exact same thing at that very moment and that thought alone was enough to make him feel sick. He needed some fresh air. He left the flat and headed downstairs, the smell of blood sticking in his nose even after leaving the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the sky was heavy with rain, the clouds looking dark and angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was just about to come up to find you.” Gwen said as she approached. “Did you find anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately no. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a better description of it and I found out that it ran off in that direction.” She pointed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So only half of the world to search.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe Ianto’s having more luck with the missing kids case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tosh was helping Ianto track the missing children as they were easily tracked via local security cameras, at least to a point. Each one walked, eyes unfocused, towards an area covered in trees. It didn’t have to be the same one, it just had to be wooded by the look of it. Melody was curled up on the sofa with a sketchbook, trying desperately to piece together what they were working with. She looked either incredibly frustrated or in pain, possibly both. Owen was just happy to not be arm deep in a skinned corpse and volunteered to escort Andy to find the children as they had an actual area to search. Anything to clear his head.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Andy had actually looked almost happy to see Owen, though the medic suspected it had more to do with finding some poor kid still alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, which one first? Drivers choice.” Owen asked, handing over a list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took it and looked over the areas. “This one’s been missing longest so we should start there. Not to chase you off from helping but… Why are you helping? I mean something might have lured these kids away but it’s not still going to be there, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might be. We barely know anything about it so we’re not just going to send you out on your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.” He placed the paper on the dashboard before pulling onto the road. He was sure the areas had already been searched but who knew if aliens were involved. “Soooo…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to make small talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok then.” The air in the car became uncomfortable very quickly. “You lot are pretty busy at the moment then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen looked over from where he’d been staring into space. “Yea. Wish we weren’t. Had to autopsy the skinned bloke this morning. Poor bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel sorry for his ex girlfriend, walking in on all that. Apparently he was still technically alive when she was there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s in bad shape after that. Not that I can blame her… Are you sure all these disappearances are connected? I mean they seem so random.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not sure but either way we find the kids, so it doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose. Melody was telling me she used to help find missing persons all the time. Could have done with her help around here before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, well we’re not loaning her out. She’s got enough problems not taking work home without that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hadn’t noticed. She always seemed so relaxed when we talked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean when you talked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We text a lot. Talk about films and music and that kind of thing. Have for months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He side eyed the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just friends Owen. You can keep your twisted thoughts to yourself. She’s gay and too young for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A likely story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to make this whole trip uncomfortable, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t planning to but now you mention it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare. This is my car and we’re on work time so don’t go playing silly beggars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I wouldn’t </span>
  <b>dream</b>
  <span> of it mr police officer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just like winding me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little bit.”         </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Whistles on the wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning for the passing of a child in this chapter. Stay safe all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It’s not perfect but it’s the best I can do. Sorry.” Melody said, her voice tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh looked down at the image in the sketchbook. “It’s a nightmare, but it’s perfect for us. Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy to help… Um… Do you think anyone would mind if I went to lay down in a dark room for a while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. Are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it had some kind of perception filter and fighting through it has given me a really bad headache.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead. Would you like me to check on you in about half an hour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’d be nice. Only if you’re free though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can make time.” She smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mel nodded a thank you and walked down to the recovery room, kicking off her shoes so she could curl up on the bed, one arm resting over her eyes. After a few moments she swore she could hear music. Like a soft tune played on a flute. It was soothing at least, though every part of her wanted to find the source. If it weren’t for the thumping pain in her head she might have tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen held an umbrella over his head as he searched the area for the missing child, Andy haven taken a different route. He really hoped the rain would ease off soon but if there was one thing he’d learned living in Wales it was that the rain never really stopped. It just took short breaks. As he stepped into a clearing he spotted a perfect circle of mushrooms and remembered Ianto mentioning the same circle where he’d found Mica. This one was empty. Well, it looked empty. Sort of. His head ached lightly, just like when he’d looked at the slab with the perception filter for too long. Wait. He walked over to the circle and stood on one of the mushrooms, the headache easing to nothing but his heart jumping into his throat. A boy, no older than nine was curled up in the mud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit… Andy!!” He called out, bending down to see if the poor kid was even alive. No pulse, no body heat, no reaction. He was too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy ran down an embankment and stopped as he spotted the pale figure. “Is he…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s dead… Has been for at least a day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit… Should I call this in or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got any body bags in your car?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A tarp? Anything?” Owen snapped, holding his umbrella so it was covering more of the body than it was himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll look. I might have something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sod this.” He picked the small body up. “Let’s just get back to the car. If we can find the others we might be able to save them and I’m not wasting any more time standing around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The officer helped clear the path back to the car and pulled a plastic sheet from the boot, helping Owen wrap up the corpse and try to respectfully store it in the boot as best they could. There wasn’t time to think, they just had to move onto the next one. Back in the car Andy switched on the lights and sirens. If there was a chance then every second mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t we see him on the first search.” He asked, eyes focused on the road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen didn’t look up. “The mushroom circle. It has a perception filter. Whatever’s inside it doesn’t get picked up by the human mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did Ianto see through the one his niece was in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has psychic training most people don’t. Just… Can we not talk for a bit?” His tone was sharper than he’d intended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He understood. Of course he did. Finding a body was hard enough, but finding a child whos life had been cut short cut you like a knife. It was an unwritten rule that after something like that you just let people do what they needed to. Need to cry? Didn’t see a thing. Need to break your own knuckles hitting a wall? Go for it, I’ll drive you to A &amp; E. Need a hug? I’ve got two arms right here. He supposed that extended to Torchwood too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen took a long, slightly shaky, breath before pulling his phone out of his jacket. “Tosh? Yea, we found one… They didn’t make it… Just, is Jack back yet?... I’ll send you the areas that need searching ASAP… Yea, get Ianto to go too… The mushroom circle was part of a perception filter. If you crush the mushrooms you can see what’s hidden inside… Yea, we’re on our way to the next search area… Thanks sweet… Yea, I’ll be fine. Just want to find one of the poor little buggers alive.... I’ll see you later… Love you too.” He ended the call and grabbed the paper from the dashboard, sending Tosh the areas that were last on the list so they could cover multiple areas without stepping on each others toes. “Andy, call your lot and get an ambulance on standby. The next one has a slim chance of being alive and I don’t have half of my kit. They’ll be dehydrated and probably hypothermic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did as he was asked without question. It was the right thing to do. They were silent the rest of the five mile drive to the next area. Owen didn’t even bother with the umbrella this time. He just stepped out into the rain. Andy followed, looking out for mushroom circles. They descended a small hill, mud splashing up as they slid in it, only having tree branches to grab and steady their descent.  At the bottom the police officer stepped on one of the mushrooms and revealed the huddled form of a five year old girl. Owen checked for a pulse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s alive!” He exclaimed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy pulled off his coat and helped wrap it around the small figure, hoping the residual warmth would help revive her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen looked up to the top of the hill and realised the climb back up was going to be risky at best. The rain was getting harder and it was rinsing yet more mud down. “Is there any other way up from here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so. This used to be a lake bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it fucking is. Right, start climbing. I’m going to pass her up to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” He dug his boots into the soft mud and reached up for branches and exposed roots, hauling himself up the slippery surface. Once at a point he was sure he could continue from he turned. “Can you pass her up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen climbed up and held the bundle of coat up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy took her in one arm then offered his hand. “Come on then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a doctor. If she crashes I’ll need you. Just take my bloody hand.” It was only a moment before he was able to haul the lighter man up and they were both able to sprint to the car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack had been caught off guard by the sudden call from Tosh but he was happy for anything to take his mind off the scene he’d seen earlier. Gwen had spent the drive looking as if she was about to just open the door and roll the second the target area was in view. He didn’t blame her. The SUV skidded to a halt next to the patch of trees. It wasn’t large but it was dense, not that a bit of climbing would frighten either of them off, even in the rain. Jack grabbed a couple of the folded silver blankets from the boot before following her into the trees. She was swearing under her breath as she was swatted in the face with lower hanging branches, ducking to avoid the larger ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone out there?” She called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack just managed to catch up. “You wouldn’t be able to hear them if they answered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s worth a try. Any better ideas -” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gestured for her to be quiet for a moment, hearing movement close by. The rain battered the branches above but that didn’t cover the sounds of a flute drifting through the air. They both slowed their steps, trying to stay quiet as they followed the hypnotic melody. They reached a clearing where a circle of mushrooms was growing, the caps of each turning inside out to release their spores. Gwen noticed one of the branches was held down by something and levelled her gun at the air just above it, hoping it was what she thought. The shot echoed around the area, sending roosting birds into the sky. The boney creature that had been sat on the branch hissed through its lipless teeth, its flute sticking from a small hole in its chest, only inches from where the bullet had hit. The mushrooms in the circle withered and a seven year old boy was revealed, standing at the centre in a trance. Jack unfolded one of the silver blankets and rushed forwards, wrapping it around the boy and placing himself between the alien and the child. Gwen wasn’t giving this one a chance, it had killed at least one child and that was unforgivable. Now it was free of the perception filter she could aim at its head. It used its spindly limbs to pull itself back up the tree, long fingers almost seeming to meld with the barren branches. She fired again, once into its chest and twice into its head. It fell again, body shrivelling like the mushrooms before it, leaving nothing but mulch behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a short silence the sound of the little boy crying pierced the air, both an awful and comforting sound as he was strong enough to do so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s ok kiddo. Let’s get you back home.” Jack soothed, trying to comfort the frightened child. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen sat on the edge of the police cars passenger seat, covered in mud and soaked to the bone. Andy didn’t look much better as he watched the ambulance leave. The third he’d waved off that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where next?” The officer asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up. “That’s it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. Tosh and Ianto found two of them and took one to the hospital themselves, and Gwen and Jack found the last one. They killed the thing who lured them away too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea… Didn’t save the lad in the boot though did it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy deflated. “No… No it didn’t… Want me to take him to the morgue or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. He died because of an alien. That means he ends up on my table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not yours either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen shrugged and stared down at the mud on his hands being rinsed away by the rain. “It’s been a long fucking day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, I’ll drive us back to your base. Fancy picking up a coffee on the way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think we could grab something stronger?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not on shift, sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worth a shot… Sorry about the mud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged and clambered into the drivers seat. “This car’s seen a lot worse than a bit of mud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, have you been bringing your dates back here?” He gave an exhausted smirk, trying to distract himself from what he had to go back to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would mean I’d had a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owch. Way to bring yourself down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always at bloody work. The only women I meet are drunk, trying to punch me, or both.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t there anyone you’ve been working with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Office dating. Not going to happen… I’d ask if you knew anyone but I know everyone you work with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they’re all taken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A good shag?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to say lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bit late on but I wouldn’t say no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Echoes through time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Melody yawned, having fallen asleep while she was trying to rid herself of her headache. Maybe Tosh had been called away as it had definitely been more than half an hour. Oh well, at least her headache had gone. She headed back up to the main area of the hub just in time for a delivery. She only just made it up to the tourist information office before the courier walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry. I was buried in work.” She said, hoping she looked suitably flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The courier scanned the barcode on top of the box. “No problem. Here you go. Dunno what the police could be sending you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think it’s a PR thing. Do you need me to sign anything?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, one sec.” He passed her the box and tapped a button on the barcode scanner, offering the screen side to her to sign. “Just need a signature right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scribbled her signature and headed back inside. If it was a parcel from the police it must be something to do with the painters case. She carried it down to the main area of the hub and placed it on Owens desk, carefully pulling away the cardboard tab to open the lid. A set of evidence bags were sat inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen was feeling a bit better, having moved the poor kids body to the cold storage, gone back to have his late lunch and even had chance to have a shower so he didn’t look like the thing from the black lagoon he decided to go and check on Melody, finding that she’d already gotten up. If she was up and about that was something. Personally, he was starting to feel a bit better as he was warm for the first time in hours. The dark cloud over his mind had lightened, thankfully, but he knew it was going to return like the unwanted guest it was. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with it alone. He was halfway up the steps to the main level of the hub when he heard Jack shout his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ianto and Tosh had paused to rinse off their boots. Or more, Ianto had stopped to rinse off the boots he was thanking whatever higher power was out there he’d decided to wear that day and Tosh was considering whether it was worth trying to wash her trainers or just give it up and throw them away. Her mind was settling on throwing them away. It had been for a good cause at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you got a change of clothes in your locker?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your shirt is… um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked down and realised she was wearing one of the few light coloured blouses she owned which had become slightly see through due to the rain. She closed her coat with a squeak. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t notice. Bit preoccupied.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope the hospital receptionist was too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They looked like they wouldn’t have noticed if you’d walked in naked. I wouldn’t worry. Looks like everyone got back before us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, if I don’t have anything in my locker I can borrow one of Owens tee shirts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The peak girlfriend privilege.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind you stealing his clothes too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He smiled, satisfied he wouldn’t be marching mud all around the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they headed towards the main area of the hub they were sure they heard Jack shout for Owen and he sounded worried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen shivered slightly as she stepped out of the warm SUV and into the cold garage. She couldn’t wait to get into some dry clothes and somewhere warm. Jack was leaving a trail of water from how much his coat alone had absorbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ianto’ll make sure you don’t get dinner ordered for a month if you drip water everywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled fondly. “I’ll hang it up by the tower to drip dry. He’ll never suspect a thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Come on, it’s freezing out here.” They walked into the main area of the hub, appreciating the wall of warmth they were stepping into. Jack did as he promised and hung his coat over one of the barriers to dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over to the desks. “What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a delivery from the police.” Melody smiled. “Evidence for the skinning case I think. Where would you like them put?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends what they are if there’s more than one. What have we got?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers brushed the plastic of one of the evidence bags and her world flashed a blinding white. From Jack and Gwens point of view they saw her head snap back painfully, mouth half open and eyes rolling into the back of her head. He sprinted over to catch her before she hit the floor, feeling her body tense as she went into convulsions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen!!” He shouted, hoping that his medic was close enough to hear. He didn’t know what to do other than try and support her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen was moving anything close by out of the way as Owen came shooting up from downstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” The doctor asked, his voice calm, his mind on his patient, as he loosened the top buttons of her shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked up to the box. “She was just about to look at the evidence bags we were sent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, just cushion her head for me.” He glanced up at the box but didn’t see anything that could have caused such a reaction. “It’s ok sweetheart. Just gotta ride this one out.” He said softly, hoping that the seizure wouldn’t last much longer.  He carefully timed her until she finally relaxed. Those four minutes felt like forever. “Don’t try and move yet, ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed more wrapped up in catching her breath, which was a good thing if the slight blue tint to her lips was anything to go by. Her body ached and she still felt disoriented and confused. The memory of what she’d experienced after the flash of light washed over her, the smell of smoke and burned flesh, the jeering of a large crowd baying for blood, the feeling of hot tar covering one side of her body. Memories that weren’t her own. Experiences from centuries before mixed with fresh pain. Skin being slowly sliced away, screaming but unable to make a sound, knowing there was no escape. It was all too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was terrified she’d fallen into another seizure as her shoulders began shaking until he heard her sobbing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully pulled her into his arms. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mel lay wrapped in a blanket as Owen finished up the scans and tests he’d been running. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good news is what caused your seizure wasn’t chemical and your brain looks to be in perfect condition.” He said, pulling over a chair. “So, I’m thinking it was some kind of telepathic attack. What do you think?” His voice was soft and he was trying to tread carefully as she looked ready to sleep for a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “I know why the painter’s doing what it’s doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Revenge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve lost me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw it… him... living in a monastery, copying bibles, and then… The people of the nearest town saw him as a demon who’d put the monks under some kind of spell. They broke in and dragged him out. They beat him and poured boiling tar over the left side of his body… When that didn’t kill him they tried to burn him at the stake… He escaped but he vowed revenge on humanity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even after this long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The rage has only gotten worse… I think when I touched the evidence bag it transmitted the telepathic residue from the scene right into my brain… That man… The one he skinned… He lived for days like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded solemnly. “Yea, I know… Look, I wouldn’t usually suggest this but if you want to retcon that crap out of your memory I’ll sign off on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I’ll be ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, you just had a seizure because of residual memories and feelings. Nothing about that is ok. You don’t have to pretend you’re just going to brush that off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” She fell silent, trying not to cry again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might physically feel better in a few hours or a few days depending on how much of a break your body thinks it needs. Until then you need to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if you’re still sore tomorrow just text me and take the day off. If you don’t text me I’ll assume you’ve collapsed and visit. And yes, that is a threat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled weakly. “I know… Owen…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t the first time this has happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He had to stop himself trying to look her in the eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “It was years ago. I don’t remember fully what happened. I’d walked off from the park and I think I met someone. He appeared from nowhere and I don’t think he spoke. He held out his hand and I saw a bright light and then stars. Like… Space. I saw another planet... The sky was red and everywhere was just sand and rocks. In the distance there was this dome that looked like it was made of glass with buildings inside. It was like a snow globe but without the snow… I woke up to my nan almost in tears kneeling over me. I think she took me right to the doctors but they couldn’t find anything wrong other than a few scrapes from hitting the path.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they ever find him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Nan said I was gone for less than a minute before one of the other kids told her and she came to find me. She saw me fall but she didn’t see anyone else there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old were you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sevenish I think. I figured he just got scared off when my powers went off. Just another alien I’d run into.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And nothing else triggered it? You didn’t notice any strange smells or sensory changes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I remember. My cousin’s epileptic so I think I visited his specialist once to make sure it wasn’t the start of anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and shook his head. “I wish your medical records hadn’t been redacted to death over the years, and that you didn’t wander off alone so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, you are… But so are the rest of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know she’s ok.” Ianto said, seeing that Jack was still standing in the shower, his head pressed against the cold tiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced up. “I didn’t even think. Of course anything found at the scene could be a hazard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything in that box had been handled previously. There was no reason to suspect that anything would have that effect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>I</b>
  <span> should have known better. How long have I been doing this?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’ve never dealt with a telepath of her level! I know we all like to act like we know what we’re doing when it comes to her abilities, but there’s nothing on record of anyone with her skill level. I checked. I even tried to search the fragments of data left from Torchwood One. Archie told me I was talking nonsense when I asked if he’d seen anything. The most I know about it is what I was told during the telepathy lectures and I was only half listening to them.” Ianto grumbled, having to stay back so he didn’t get soaked again.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned off the water and grabbed a towel he’d left aside. “When did you start that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Months ago. It’s just an extension of knowing everyones food orders, routines and emergency contacts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not an allergy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be. Which is why I wanted to find as much as I could.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any recommendations?” He asked, drying his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting dressed before anyone comes looking for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could disappear for an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later. I’m not getting changed again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then take your clothes off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain pouted as Ianto walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later.” He called back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll hold you to that.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Into the den</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Owen sat, his desk filled with evidence bags, as Jack approached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has Melody gone home?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The medic didn’t look up. “Gwen gave her a lift, yea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you working on then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was finding out where the painter got his hands on the syringes and adrenaline, and it’s not good news for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it ever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up one of the bags. “This is from a batch of rejected syringes, and its contents is long out of date. The painter’s found a stash of medical waste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Jack cringed at the thought. “So we’re back to square one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh turned her chair to them. “Well, I have been tracking the interference that we got from the cameras.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toshiko Sato, please tell me you have some good news.” The captain smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back to her computer and brought up a map. “The red dots are cameras that have been affected by the interference. There are gaps but if we use the time to plot a course-” a blue line appeared, threading through each of the dots, creating a complete journey, “we get this. As another camera hasn’t picked anything up for half an hour I think it’s stopped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you are brilliant. Call Gwen and tell her to meet us there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The SUV skidded to a halt outside of an old factory building. Gwen was waiting for them, keeping an eye on the place so nothing left. She wasn’t going to storm the building alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s come or gone since I got here.” She said, stepping away from her car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded. “Good. You and Owen go around the back, me and Ianto’ll head in this side. The moment you see this thing, kill it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She walked around the side of the building with Owen, hoping that the door wouldn’t be chained closed. Her hopes were dashed when she saw not only a chain but a huge bramble bush growing around and through it. “Brilliant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen rolled his eyes. “Then we take the indirect route.” He pointed to an open window above them before taking a few steps back to give him a chance at grabbing the edge of the frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never grew out of your teenage hooligan phase, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got yours, being as you never use it.” He smirked as he pulled himself through the relatively small gap. “Keep up sweetcheeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed and made the jump. “Don’t you go starting that again.” Dropping to the dusty concrete floor the smell was the first thing to hit her. It was like a bathroom that hadn’t been cleaned in years. “What </span>
  <b>is</b>
  <span> that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rotten fat, urine and lime.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s tanning skins. It’s an old method and only gets worse.” He winced at the stench and took a small bottle of peppermint oil from his pocket. “Glad I didn’t leave this behind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the bottle as soon as he was done with it. “Me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Least we can be sure he’s definitely been here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s take a look around.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The large building was separated into four main areas and six smaller offices. Ianto stepped through the first warehouse style area, noticing scratch marks in lines through the dust on the floor. They looked human. He gestured for Jack to look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay vigilant, there are signs that it might have brought people here.” Jack said over coms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen was the first to reply. “Makes sense. There’s more than one skin here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun cast an orange light through the huge rooms as the sun began to set. Not the best conditions to hunt in, but waiting could allow the monster to escape. It wouldn’t be the first, or last, search they conducted mostly by torchlight. Stepping through the dust and rubble, they approached the door but stopped at one of the indents in the outer wall. The whole wall had been painted. It depicted the creature itself, arms outstretched and head tilted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a bit self indulgent.” Ianto said flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s painted himself in the crucifixion pose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m more worried about what he was painting with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to agree, the smell was awful and getting stronger. A rattling sound caught their attention as they reached the doorway. They were ready to fire at the first sight of this thing but upon entering the next area they were met with something a lot less alive. A corpse, mostly eaten away by rats and insects, still partially chained to one of the overhead pipes. A particularly fat rat squeak from its perch on the corpses shoulder. It had rattled the chain when it had climbed down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto clamped his hand over his mouth, bile rising in his throat. Part of him really wished he’d skipped lunch completely, or called in sick. No, he wasn’t going to let a dead body get the best of him. Even if it was in such a state. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gwen took point as her and Owen entered the fourth of the warehouse spaces. They’d barely got three steps in before being thrown to the floor by something large kicking them in the back. It landed with whoosh, the fabric it had wrapped itself in slowly settling. Gwen reached for her gun but felt a sudden and intense burning in her arm. The telepathic defences she had were nowhere near enough and it pushed through them like wet paper. She screamed as she felt the skin melt and sluice off from her arm. Her vision blurred and began to darken around the edges. Owen was faring no better, curled up, trying to protect his head. Three shots were fired above them and the pain stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto and Jack had come sprinting when they heard the screams and didn’t even blink before firing on the creature. It was hit in the arm but its fast, unpredictable, movements made it hard to hit. It leapt up and threw itself through the window, Jack attempting to give chase through the closest door. It was too late, all that was left was a blood trail that slowly faded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I lost it.” He said defeatedly, catching his breath. “But it’s injured… Everyone in one piece?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “Shaken, but in one piece… What are we going to do against its telepathy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know yet. I’m on my way back now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rhys knew that look. The one that Gwen got whenever she’d had a particularly hard day. He unlaced his boots and tossed them onto the shoe rack before slipping off his coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m back.” He smiled softly, leaning down on the arm of the sofa next to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked like she’d been snapped from a daydream. “Oh. Oh, sorry sweetheart. I was just… Tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” She looked down at her arm, the skin untouched other than the small graze she’d got from hitting the floor. “It got away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked around the sofa and sat on the other side, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sure you did your best. You’ll get whatever it is next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been skinning people alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s a telepath… Got me seeing things. I thought my arm was melting off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took her hand. “But you know it wasn’t real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt it… No wonder Melody collapsed like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m missing a bit here love. Melody collapsed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She touched one of the evidence bags and had a seizure. I… God it’s just been a day. First I’m looking into this, and then we get called to find some missing kids and I end up shooting this ghoulish thing that played a bloody flute, then that happened and... I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt cold tears fall and all he could do was hold her. It all sounded so far fetched but he knew she was telling the truth. “Hey, come on, it’s ok. Did you find the missing kids?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea.” She nodded into his chest. “One of them… We were too late, but the others were alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, you’ve saved plenty of people today. They get to go home to their parents, yea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded again and sniffled. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be silly. I’d be crying too after a day like that. I’m here for you, you know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen had pulled a pillow over his face after he’d flopped onto the sofa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you still alive under there?” Tosh asked, placing a cup of tea on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave a non committal groan in reply and moved his legs so she could sit down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what does the pillow want for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled it down just enough that he could be heard clearly. “For it not to involve food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My head’s still messed up from earlier and I really don’t want to be throwing up later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tosh, I saw my own face burning off. The idea of ingesting anything makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. Anyway, I had lunch late. I’m fine. Just… Water’ll be fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned down and caressed his cheek with soft fingers, feeling him lean into her. “As long as you’re sure… We can just put on something mindless and pretend the world doesn’t exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good.” He let the pillow fall to the floor and pulled her into a hug. “You should eat though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a hypocrite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you known me now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Long enough to know that you never take your own advice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Never have before, not going to start now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound proud of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the only thing that I’ve kept the same in my life since I left home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pressed her forehead against his. “You’re hopeless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again, how long have you known me now?” He cracked a smile, appreciating the feeling of having another human being there with him. Even on his worst days Tosh had a way to just keep him grounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was so worried after our call earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea? Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said I love you back instead of making some stupid remark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I do though. Even if I don’t say it a lot.” He ran his fingers through her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. You have different ways of saying it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s why you’re the only one who’ll put up with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I </span>
  <b>know</b>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, sorry about that… Tomorrow’s going to be crap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thinking about tomorrow.” She breathed. “Right now, the rest of the world can just leave us alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat back then slid off the sofa, a smile on her face. “Well, I don’t fancy an audience.” She said plainly, slipping off her top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack had been staring at the bunker ceiling for three hours, unable to settle his thoughts long enough to even doze. That creature was still out there and free to take yet more victims. It had run off even further from civilisation so they couldn’t track it with the method Tosh had used before. She’d set it to alert her if the interference was picked up again but the painter could just change its hunting method and start again out in the countryside. They hadn’t anticipated a direct telepathic attack and that’s how it had gotten away. They wouldn’t make that mistake again. Maybe they could find something to disrupt its telepathic field. He hoped it would just take some time off to heal and possibly get some kind of infection. As if he’d be so lucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack, are you awake?” Ianto asked softly from his usual spot on Jacks chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. I can’t get the sight of that corpse out of my head. The one in the morgue was bad enough but that…” He shuddered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know… We haven’t run into anything like that in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe in the morning I should find the old telepathic defence literature. We could all do with a refresher course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we track it down again let me handle it. I should be able to keep it out long enough to put it down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still. It’ll be good for us to be a little more prepared. We’ve run into so many more telepathic threats recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess it can’t hurt.”    </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. An unwanted visitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Melody rolled over, hearing movement from her laptop. She’d had a video chat with Heather open all night so she felt a little less alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off to work already?” She asked, her voice gravelly and tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heather appeared on the screen. “Yea, sorry sweetheart. I’ll see you tonight though, yea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to. Just take it easy today and remember to text your friend if you’re not going in to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will. Have a good day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try.” She smiled warmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The call ended and Melody realised just how much her body was still aching. She grabbed her phone, ducking back under the duvet with it, and texted Owen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m still not feeling great so I don’t think I’ll be able to get into work, sorry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She yawned and slid out of bed, limping to the bathroom to run a bath. Maybe that would ease her aching muscles. While the water was running she went to grab breakfast and heard a knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She dragged herself over and looked through the peephole, her heart jumping into her throat as she did. Naomi stood outside of her door, dark circles under her eyes. Mel staggered back and rushed to grab her phone, aching muscles be damned. She held it to her chest and retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She wasn’t scared per se, she just didn’t have the energy for all of that. She called Jacks number and waited for an answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning.” He said rather cheerfully for the time of morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat down next to the bathtub. “I wouldn’t call it good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bad, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Naomi’s outside my door right now and I’ve locked myself in the bathroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a short pause. “I’m on my way. Are you safe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. She doesn’t know I’m in but I don’t like that she managed to find my address.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either. Is she alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t see anyone else but I can’t be sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got police on route but I don’t know how long they’ll be. Is she armed? I’ll wear an old shirt if she is so someone doesn’t complain.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed softly. “I don’t think so, but please don’t put yourself in stabbing range. Ianto’s glaring at you right now, isn’t he.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Came a voice from the background.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack and Ianto arrived before the police and made their way up to Mels door where a figure sat hunched over against her door. They almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Jack asked, sounding like a disappointed parent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naomi looked up with dark eyes. “He said she was alive. Said she was here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I tell you? You tried to hide her from me. Pretended she was dead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To protect her from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stumbled to her feet, the smell of alcohol wafting off her. “She doesn’t need protecting from me. The world needs protecting from her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’s that meant to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t always this. She worms her way into your head, makes you need her more than anything else. It all makes sense now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s true. I had a good family. Friends. Then I met her and she led me to sin.” She laughed bitterly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto spotted something hidden under the hem of her coat. “Why don’t you put down the weapon and we can talk about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just as tangled in her web. I’m doing the world a favour… She’s the devil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re drunk, just calm down-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I needed it. Now it’s harder for her to mess with my thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirens could be heard approaching at speed. “We can get you some help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only one who needs help is you… I could save you.” She smiled, her hand edging towards whatever she had concealed. “Could set you free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was ready to draw his own gun if necessary but sincerely hoped he could disarm her. He’d been carefully moving closer and if he was lucky he might be able to tackle her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She can’t hide forever.” She drew the gun from her waistband and tried to aim but found her wrist twisting and herself pinned to the wall. Two police officers rounded the corner from the stairs, ready to take over as Naomi began laughing. “I won’t go back!” She bit down on something before letting herself be handcuffed. Still laughing as she was read her rights and escorted down to a police car. Ianto grabbed the fallen pistol and examined it. It wasn’t a model he recognised and that was suspicious at best. He wrapped it in a handkerchief and handed it to Jack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this look familiar to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain studied it. “Not sure. Let’s go inside and let Melody out of her bathroom. We can look at it after we’ve dealt with the police.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took the spare key they kept and let them into the flat. “Mel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a soft click from the bathroom lock and she emerged, wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and looking like she was about to fall asleep again on her feet. She smiled softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sore. Very sore. I heard sirens and a struggle so I guess you got her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, I doubt they’ll let her get away again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. She didn’t hurt you did she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was too drunk to stand up straight, so no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did she even find me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said someone told her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack perched on the arm of the sofa. “She didn’t say. Hopefully we can find out once she’s in a cell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door pulled them from their conversation. Ianto answered it and saw a female police officer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everyone alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Thankfully yes. Thank you for the fast response.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. We’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” He said genuinely, nodding a goodbye to her. Once the door was closed he turned back. “Is it a good time to bring up what she was carrying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melody looked between them. “What was she carrying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This.” Jack took out the pistol he’d hidden to avoid questions from the visiting officer. “It doesn’t look like something in general circulation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it have a serial number?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He checked the weapon over as she limped off to grab her laptop. “Found it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just one sec’” She logged out of her windows system and into the Torchwood network. “Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He typed in the serial number which should have given them the weapons full details but it came up with nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be something that fell through the rift. It wouldn’t be the first thing she’d bought that wasn’t from the here and now.” Ianto said, leaning over to see the screen. “But, maybe we should do this back at the hub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked up in confusion before his eyes darted to a very fatigued looking Melody. “Right.” He closed the laptop and set it aside. “Will you be ok on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming over so early.” She smiled</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any time. Rest up. Ianto wants to start telepathic defence training so you’ll be roped into that when you’re feeling better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’d love to help with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a quick goodbye she headed back to the bathroom and turned the hot water back on, tipping a generous amount of bubble bath into it. She needed to get better and she was going to do it in a way that would settle her heart rate and make her smell like a cake shop. Maybe that would chase away the knowledge that her drunk ex had tracked her down to her home with a gun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen glanced over the literature that had been emailed to him and immediately deleted the email.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen… Really?” Ianto grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped and looked over his shoulder. “Jesus! When did you creep up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m always here but that’s not the point. Could you just read what I sent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those things haven’t been updated since the sixties. They’re unreliable and sometimes completely useless, so no, I’m not reading them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all we have for now. It’s not as if we have an entire department to rewrite them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell Harkness to rewrite them. He’s got the whole time agent training, hasn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to try and get him to do that go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, if Melody isn’t strong enough to hold that thing off then what hope do we have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just about the painter. We’ve been running into more and more aliens with telepathic abilities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh looked over from her desk. “He’s right. There has been an upturn in the frequency of beings with telepathic abilities appearing. I think having a little more defense is a good idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you read half of it? There’s a reason it hasn’t been bothered with it in a long time.” Owen shrugged. “But knock yourselves out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can always ask Melody to help once she’s recovered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually she was very enthusiastic when I mentioned it earlier.” Ianto mentioned, partially hoping it would convince Owen to join in. Before he could find out Gwen walked over looking a little perturbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen sighed. “Naomi was found dead in her holding cell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They think she overdosed or poisoned herself somehow. We won’t know until there’s a toxicology report done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was very drunk but that was it before she was dragged off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said she wouldn’t go back and I heard a crunch just before she was handcuffed. I didn’t think she’d have access to anything that lethal.” Jack said, emerging from his office. “And whoever told her Melodys address keeps their identity secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think those two facts are linked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s possible. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on the investigation since we heard about it. The case worker who was the last person to be seen with her before she disappeared went by the name John Harrold but there's no other record of him. I think this runs deeper than just a stalking case. Leave this with me for now and concentrate on tracking down the painter.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Testing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jack signed the tag on the pistol that Naomi had dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done already?” Asked Ianto, a rubbish bag in one hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t sound happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The serial number, if it’s accurate and I think it is, says this hasn’t been made yet and probably won’t be for another decade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it dropped through the rift like we thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. There’s no residue from contact with the rift. It had to have been given to her by someone with access to time travel technology.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would anyone want to do that for? All that trouble to get Melody killed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working on that part. Do we have anything else on the painter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but it is eleven o’clock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up in surprise. “Already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could be wrong but I don’t think I am.” He pointed to a clock on the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “So, everyone’s gone home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two hours ago. They would have gone sooner but Tosh thought she might have found some of the painters interference. Turned out to be the interaction between a flooded roof and some exposed wires.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure she loved that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the company that owns that camera is going to wake up to a video with the words fix your wires written across the screen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think it’ll be too much to ask that the painter just goes back into hibernation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can ask but I doubt it’ll happen. Are you planning on sleeping tonight?” He almost looked hopeful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack relaxed a little. “I should. Let me take a shower first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something else we could do before then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The painter sat hidden in an old bus shelter, examining the wound in its arm. It had already picked out the pieces of glass that had been left embedded in its skin. If these humans thought a simple wound would stop his crusade then they had another thing coming. It only made his rage ever more intense. Now he could put a face to the specific humans he would need for his masterpiece. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning Ianto invited everyone to a meeting. He held what looked like a small leather wallet in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me you’re not still on this psychic defence thing.” Owen grumbled, leaning on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened the wallet. “What does it say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It says fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine-” he looked up and squinted slightly, “- it’s just an id card.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t move-... How did you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack chuckled having stayed quiet. “It’s psychic paper. It says whatever he wants it to say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we’re going to try and see past the telepathic effect?” Asked Gwen, looking rather enthusiastic about the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ianto smiled. “Exactly. Now, do you want to be the only one who can be tricked by a simple piece of paper Owen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just get on with it.” Owen huffed, not wanting to admit it had actually piqued his interest.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melody tilted her head, looking carefully at the paper. She’d never spent any time actually studying the thing even though she’d been shown it. To her there were small tendrils that reached out and waved in the air like seaweed caught in the current. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had Melody check over the literature this morning so we can avoid anything pointless.” Ianto continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “It had the basic concepts but there was a lot of flowery language. Identification of an object such as psychic paper is easy. If you look a few inches to the left or right of the object it should become out of focus, but if it’s showing a telepathic image it won't as it’s your mind and not your eyes picking up the information. Though with some things if you’ve looked long enough to identify it that way it might be too late.” She suddenly felt a surge of nerves as she noticed Tosh taking notes and realised that everyones eyes were on her. “Um… I mean the better way is to work on your own defences… Like setting up a firewall. The human mind is actually pretty flexible and a lot of the building will be automatic once you start using your telepathic potential… If that makes any sense…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on.” He encouraged softly, hoping to bolster her fading confidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… Um… Each human is born with some telepathic potential and working at Torchwood increases that a few steps from what I’ve seen. You’re likely already filtering out most of the background telepathic radiation… There are two types of telepathic hazards, passive and active. Passive ones are like the paintings. They don’t need anything to keep their effects going but they tend not to be as strong as active threats. Active threats have a mind behind them. They’re focused but a lot more malleable depending on how strong the creator is. The psychic paper sits on the edge of both. It needs an active mind to show anything but it doesn’t stop functioning at all without one. For passive threats a strong mental defence should be enough to dampen or nullify the effects and that’s mostly strengthened with practice and time. For active threats a good mental defence is a good start but there are other methods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen perked up. “Oh, you told me about those ages ago. If someone's trying to take your thoughts or memories you can kick them out by thinking about something terrifying or disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Anything to make them want to break contact with you. Other things that can kick something out of your head include extremely loud sounds, impossible geometry or even just the memory of pain. It’s all about giving them a shot of sensory overload. Beyond that you have to push them out manually and that’s something that takes practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how do you fight off what the painter can do?” Owen asked, arms crossed, looking a bit unconvinced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… Um… Sad to say the first step is convincing your own brain that what you’re experiencing isn’t real. There are certain meditative techniques that are more like controlled dissociation, but a lot of it is pure willpower. After that you can push the connection out or attack back using the connection it’s already made. But that’s… Um... Very hard for a human, especially one who hasn’t been training from the moment they’re able.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… um… I mean if we have the time I have heard of devices that can dampen telepathic effects using electromagnetic radiation. Telepathic radiation and electromagnetic radiation are similar and depending on which is stronger, one will disrupt the other. It’s not advisable for long periods of time but maybe as a kind of telepath busting flashbang.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about that. I have something I’ve been working on.” Tosh smiled softly, noting that Mel was looking less and less like she was up to any of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “Well, before anything else there is one thing we have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Torchwood basic telepathy grading assessment.” Ianto gestured to a stack of papers in the centre of the table. “And one advanced one for you, just for curiositys sake.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack looked a little annoyed when he stepped out of the meeting room after his test. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen smirked. “Don’t tell me you failed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. But my score’s lower than the last time I took it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By how much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two points.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have improved since the seventies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright grandad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Jack scowled. “You try looking this good at my age.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tosh stifled a giggle. “Well, there’s a six point margin for error so your results were probably the same. And Ianto might have docked a couple of points if you were flirting during the test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s just discrimination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s up next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gwen’s the only one left to do the basic test.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gwen stood. “My original test wasn’t done that long ago. I’m surprised we can’t use that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it as a group activity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I prefer basketball to be honest.” She smiled, showing she didn’t really mind. “But if we can use this instead of trauma for team bonding I can cope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only it was that easy. By the way, who feels like a long drive?”   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To Aberdare and back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The advanced telepathy test needs some serious distance for one part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go.” Owen volunteered, to everyones surprise. “Better than sitting around. Anyway I need some fresh air before I deal with Tex and his rotten tooth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know weevils could get cavities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They can when they get a taste for the bakery section. That and I think he cracked it at some point. I’ve got to knock him out and pull it. He’ll be fine but weevil breath stink is bloody awful without a tooth rotting in his skull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. You can get a head start then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When are you going to learn to drive then?” Owen asked, eyes fixed on the road ahead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melody smiled to herself. “I’ve had a couple of lessons already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not driving the SUV.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I’d be distracted the whole time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, do you need a booster seat or -” He teased</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that short.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, why did you really volunteer to drive me all this way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m putting off putting my hands in a weevils mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen… Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed deeply. “I was wondering how you were feeling after yesterday and… With what happened after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack told me this morning. Tetrodotoxin poisoning… I… Is it bad that I’m too tired of her nonsense to feel much about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After everything she did, I’d be celebrating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if I wasn’t sure there was something pulling her strings. She was messed up but I feel like there was someone else pushing her in all the wrong directions. Guess I’ll never know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Either way, that’s not something you should carry. How are you feeling physically?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not aching anymore. Spent most of yesterday in bed… Want me to get rid of what the painter did for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I offered Gwen the same. You’ll remember it made you see something horrid but it’ll take out the details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No offence but I’ll pass. I don’t like the idea of my memories being messed with, even ones like those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s ok. The offer’s there if you want it, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate it. I-” He was cut off by something darting across the road. He slammed on the breaks and skidded to avoid whatever it was, stopping short of sliding down the embankment. “You ok?” He asked as he pulled his thoughts together, glad that the road had been quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, rubbing where the seatbelt had stopped her from flying forwards. “What… Was that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” He felt the tug of something in the back of his mind. “That’s not you, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s not me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of talons on the roof of the car made them both look up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” Owen breathed, reaching for his gun. He could feel a burning pain running through his arms as the painter walked down and onto the bonnet. “Mel… I’ll keep it busy… Just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t listening, he could see that. He could also see the numb look on her face as she stared at the spindly figure of the painter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melody… Don’t…” He choked out, trying to push past the illusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned her head and the softest smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “It’s ok. No more pain.” Her voice filled his head and the pain subsided to nothing. “See this as part of the test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The painter hissed into her mind as she stepped out of the car and walked up to the looming figure. “You are foolish young human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for what those people did to you, but that doesn’t excuse the pain you’ve caused to others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You expect me to beg you for forgiveness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I just hope you won’t fight me too hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Die.” Her voice sounded like the rattling of bones and it made the creature stagger, holding its head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not allow this! What are you?! A demon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Far from it. I am human, mundane, just like the people you tortured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen tried to climb out of the car but found his legs felt weak, his hands shaking too badly to risk a shot. She hadn’t stopped the painters influence over him, just dulled it. She was actively dulling it whilst attacking. Her hair seemed to move, pushed and pulled by a light wind he couldn’t feel. Sparks crackled in the air between her and the painter as it tried desperately to push back her influence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt everything you did to him.” She said, her voice flat but her eyes piercing coldly through the alien being. “And as impressive as it is that you managed to survive my first command I think it’s time to end this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature staggered a little. “You think me that weak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re that pathetic. Now die!” Her words seemed to make the air distort, sending visible waves through it, knocking the painter down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It gasped and clawed at the road before fixing its eyes on her, the mental projection of its voice weak and faint. “You… You’re an angel… Sent to… Punish me.” The light faded from its eyes and it fell limp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen felt his strength return to him instantly but he didn’t dare approach just yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok.” She called to him, her voice completely normal and hair no longer defying the laws of physics. “Sorry I couldn’t block him completely, but could you help me move him before more cars decide to come this way. It’s really tiring having to divert people too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you were diverting people while you were fighting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I didn’t want anyone to get caught in the crossfire.”  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Pending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What do you mean the painter’s dead?” Jack asked, his voice loud through the speaker of Owens phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s dead. Melody commanded it to death after it tried to run us off the road. I’ll explain when we get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just, get back asap.” The call ended abruptly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen looked over at Melody who looked barely conscious in the passenger seat. “That could have gone worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He sounded pretty upset. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than getting skinned alive, but how did you pull that off so easily?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easily?! Nothing about that was easy. Just because I looked calm didn’t mean my brain wasn’t doing so many different things and trying not to burn out. That thing wanted to do so many twisted things and-” She paused as he reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her rant. She hadn’t even realised how emotional she was getting. “I… Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I shouldn’t have assumed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the other day got to me more than I thought… Heather stayed over last night and I don’t think I would have slept if she hadn’t been there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she still at your place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea. She can work from her laptop at the moment so she’s staying for a couple of days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve got all your stuff with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? But I’ll need to write a report and I’m sure Jack will want to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me worry about that. If Harkness has a problem he can bitch about it to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen… I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s an order.” He side eyed her, almost amused that he was the one saying that line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She relaxed into her seat. “Thanks. Sorry to be so much trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be. You’re not one of us unless you’re causing trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack was waiting in the garage when Owen returned. “I think you’ve forgotten something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took her home.” He replied, moving to open the boot of his car where the painter had been stuffed, wrapped in a plastic sheet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it’s easier to talk about someone when they’re not standing next to you. Are you going to help me with this or am I carrying it on my own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen stop, can you please explain what’s going on.” He leaned on the edge of the boot, only glancing at the figure wrapped up inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doctor stood back. “She kicked this things arse. I mean I know she’s killed things before but this had the skills to fight back. Remember what she was like when she killed Osiris? I thought that was just hysterical strength but she did the same thing. She was warping the air around her. That isn’t like anything we’ve ever seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok. That’s impressive but what’s your point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens when whatever set off her telepathic development shows up? We wouldn’t stand a sodding chance. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think she’d do anything to us willingly but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, I’ve been thinking the same thing. We just have to trust her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about a limiter? If she’s on board with it I could work on a failsafe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds invasive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for her own safety. She admitted that what she did took its toll and she was having to be careful not to burn herself out. One of these days she’s going to end up frying her own brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think she will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? And you’re sure of that, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, because I think whatever gave her the ability is monitoring her progress and if she burns herself out it would defeat the point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused. “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet. I don’t know what its end goal is. I don’t know how it’s doing what it is, but I know it has access to time travel and weaponry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time agency?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not their style.” He shook his head and looked out across the garage. “If it was them they would have just sent someone to recruit her face to face. Problem is vortex manipulators aren’t the most difficult things to get hold of as long as you know where to look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d have noticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if they got here years ago and have just kept a low profile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do we do about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen was more than a little taken aback by the captains honesty on the matter. “Look, Mel’s stronger than she lets on. If or when the time comes she’ll make the right choice, whatever that might be. For now, let’s just deal with one mess at a time.” He gestured to the body in the boot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melody flopped down, face first, onto the folded out sofa bed, her bag thumping to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad day?” Heather asked, placing her laptop aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged and turned her head so she wasn’t speaking into the duvet. “I’m not as recovered as I thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I really look that bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little bit.” She sat on the edge of the sofa bed. “Tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes please. How’s your day been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too bad. Can’t give details but remember that PR manager I said I really wanted to slap? Well they got demoted after I sent an email to HR.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Result.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you’ll still be up to the concert?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When is it again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not for another two weeks but just want to be sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, I’ll be fine by then. It’ll be nice to have some positivity in my head for once.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Simon said he couldn’t make it though so we have a spare ticket if you can think of anyone who wants to join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled onto her side and smiled softly. “I can think of one person that might be up for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. It would be a shame to waste it.” Heather stood and headed towards the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t he come anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some kind of family do. He didn’t go into it but it didn’t sound fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached down into her bag and grabbed her phone. “I’ll call him later, hopefully it isn’t too bad.” Opening her texts she found the last one she’d got from Ianto and hit reply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stone Sour ticket going free. Not for another two weeks. Can give details tomorrow. You up for it Y/N? :) </span>
  </em>
  <span>As it sent she cuddled up to the nearest pillow and tried to block out the blinding headache that had been developing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
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